


Cheers

by Occula



Category: U2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 14:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12278328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Occula/pseuds/Occula
Summary: At the studio, Adam and Edge have a little talk.





	Cheers

**Author's Note:**

> This one's a little more lighthearted (at least for me). First posted on LJ Oct. 25, 2003.

Does Larry know I’m watching him?

I’ve never been very subtle. Yet I don’t think I wear my heart entirely on my sleeve, either.

Quite simply, I fell in love with him a quarter century ago when he was a baby-faced pretty boy with his hair hanging in his eyes. Again when he was a slicked-back Harley rider. When he … when everything.

Look what the boy’s become. His deep chest and strong arms – and strong hands – utterly entrance me. His hard and slender everything else. His sudden smile and ridiculous giggle. His imperfections – I hear him menacingly demand “ _What_ imperfections?” – his imperfections are endearing. His too-short hair. His way of falling into habits of style and never falling out of them. The way he conspicuously dodges questions at group interviews unless specifically addressed by name. His charming stubbornness.

And, today, his dogged insistence on high hat rather than tambourine. I don’t care, really, but I suspect he’s right. I also suspect he’ll win. After exchanging an affectionate “Why do we put up with them” kind of eye roll with Edge, I’ll just perch here on my stool and take this opportunity to ogle. What actually happened to all his other earrings? Was there some kind of tragic misplacement, or did he decide to simplify his life one day? Does he feel how I want him? Hasn’t he always felt it? What would he taste like?

I shift uncomfortably and realize I’d better redirect that particular train of thought, as I’ll be standing up again as soon as Larry and Bono resolve the cymbal issue, and my bass rests higher than that. I look away, and accidentally look straight at Edge, who had been watching me. I realize he’s looking understanding and sympathetic.

Christ, he knows? Fuck. Suddenly I’m far too uncomfortable, in more ways than one, to remain in this room. I get up and remove my bass. The bickering falls silent as they turn to look at me.

“Just need something to drink,” I said. “Carry on. I’ll be right back.” I’m out of here. Just five minutes with a glass of iced water and I’ll be back at work.

Or maybe I should have at it in the loo, get it out of my system and get on with my day.

A little juvenile, don’t you think?

Nothing juvenile about it – everyone does it.

Not at work whilst daydreaming about coworkers.

Just take a minute. Nobody would know.

Well, fuck, this line of thought isn’t making me any _less_ uncomfortable. I hold my cool glass of water against my forehead just as Edge comes in and goes to the refrigerator.

I lower the glass hastily and sit at the table. Go away, Edge, I’m rampant.

He gets a bottle of juice, closes the door, and turns around, shaking the bottle. “You all right?” Crisp pop as he opens it.

“Yeah,” I say, trying to convey total innocence.

“Right.” He nods a bit too knowingly.

I take a drink, ignoring him. He takes a drink, not taking his eyes from my face. “Are you ever going to tell him?”

“Drop it, Edge.”

“You really should, you know.”

Please. “Look who the fuck’s talking. When are _you_ going to tell _him_?”

That worked only too well. Now he’s hurt. “I’m sorry,” I say, getting up. “I’m a little defensive on … that subject.”

He shook his head, smiling a little. “Well, you’re _right_ ,” he said. “Aren’t we a pair.”

Then we’re both laughing. I hold up my water glass and he clicks his bottle against it. “To secrecy!” I say.

“Futility!” he replies in kind, grinning.

“Obsession!”

“Hopelessness!”

“Hey, what are you guys doing out here?” Larry asks as he comes in, Bono right behind him.

Edge and I crack up completely, holding each other. “Obliviousness!” Edge chokes out, lifting his bottle, and I laugh so hard I snort and have to sit down, helpless. “Denial!” I cry, and Edge bursts out into renewed giggles. Larry throws up his hands, and Bono just looks at us as though we’ve gone completely mad.

Finally we manage to control ourselves and wipe our eyes and go back in.

The high hat part works out pretty well, too.

 


End file.
